In order to live immortal, I changed a martial artist world to a xianxia world - Chapter 57 - The Profound Heaven Sword Sect! The Heritage of a Hegemonic Power!

Shao Xian went back in time to when he was ten years old and met his pitiful old enemy. He wanted to personally train him so that when the other grew up, he wouldn’t turn against him.

But he didn’t expect that this old enemy would turn sweet and sticky after being taken care of.

It was just that this little sweet cake was too insecure and often, golden beads of tears would drip.

As soon as he cried, Shao Xian was helpless, and of course, he would want to give him everything.

—

On the way to an auction, Shao Xian died in a car accident.

Before he died, he thought, Fu Baizhou must be very pleased without him being present to mix things up.

After all, in Yan City, Fu Baizhou shocked everyone with a name of being cruel and ruthless.

Only one person dared to confront him.

When he opened his eyes again, he was wearing a custom suit, reexperiencing his tenth birthday.

He saw a dirty little boy being ridden on like a horse. He suddenly remembered the rumors that had been circulating widely in his previous life. It was about the tragic childhood of a ruthless man surnamed Fu.

- Description from Novelupdates

“This twisted world needs to be reset. That's what V2 is for!”-------------------------------------------------------------Waking up only to find that she's reincarnated into a world very reminiscing of a game that she used to play, Yuki is suddenly thrust into a worldwide conflict. To ensure the longevity of her newfound motherland, Yuki will have no choice but to flip this war upside down. If only to finally has some closure for past life also.So buckle up, strap your helmet tight, and keep your rifle loaded and on safe. This is not your bog-standard story about overpowered characters on a battlefield, no. This is a story about warfare in all its bloodied glory, the leader that calls the shot, the soldiers that execute them, and the nation that's backing them up. And along the way, sprinkle those a healthy dose of beautiful maidens, lily/futa romances, and build a harem.This is not gonna be a quick and decisive run, no. We're in this one for the long haul. Hail, Ironblood!

'I should have stayed home and played video games' this was Ray's last thought before darkness engulfed him after he was hit by a car.

But surprisingly instead of finding himself before the gate of hell after dying, Ray found out he was transmigrated into another world.

The world Ray was transmitted to was called Arora world, a world where you can use different kinds of skills, magic and can even get powerful classes.

Ray found himself in a body of a young boy called Evan, who was studying in a hunter academy after awakening his ability at the age of fourteen.

At first, Ray was happy that he was transmigrated into the body of someone who has awakened his ability and can use the magic that he always wanted to use.

But when Ray goes through the memories of Evan, he finally found out everything is not as simple as he was expecting.

Evan has a unique physique that doesn't allow him to increase his power like other people, because of his useless unique physique Evan was the weakest hunter in the entire academy.

And that was not all the more Ray looks at the memories of Evan the more he realizes just how troublesome his situation is.

“I know I enter in this body without buying a ticket but isn't this too much?” Ray said in a depressed voice after going through the memories of Evan.

Will Ray be able to survive in this new world?

Is the physique of his new body really useless?

Join Ray In his adventure to find out.

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war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”